by Helen Lacey
“You could get a minivan,” she teased, and popped a couple of pieces of popcorn into her mouth. They were snacking on party leftovers, and Tess was more relaxed than she’d imagined she would be.
His brows rose and he looked sideways. “How many kids do you plan on having?”
The intimation could not be missed, and she colored hotly. “Just one.”
His expression changed, and he grabbed her hand, speaking soberly. “Is your heart truly healed, Tess?”
She sucked in a sharp breath, knowing exactly what he meant. “Mostly,” she admitted. “I mean, of course I think about what might have been, and I still grieve each baby I lost. But I think it will be easier once he’s here with us and in my arms.”
“I’m glad,” he said softly. “I know how much this must mean to you.”
“I know you do,” she said, threading their fingers. “I might not have realized it at the time, but over the years I’ve had a lot of thinking time. A lot of reflection. I know I wasn’t the only one grieving back then.”
“It just felt like it?” he suggested.
She nodded a little. “Well, I know it’s generally harder for men to talk about feelings and emotions and all the things that go hand in hand with loss and grief. I understand a little better now.”
“The truth,” he said, and raised their linked hands. “I felt utterly helpless. It wasn’t something I was used to. Usually I can fix anything, but I couldn’t fix you. I couldn’t make it right.”
“You don’t have to, you know,” she said, pushing a little further. “Make everything right, I mean.”
“It’s all I know.”
“Occupational hazard,” she said quietly. “Because everyone depends on you to be strong and always in charge and not to have any weakness.”
“Something like that.”
“So, you gave me an ultimatum instead?”
His fingers tightened. “I was desperate.”
“That’s quite an admission.”
He shrugged, looking sheepish, but still gripped her hand. He looked at her mouth and Tess knew exactly what he was thinking. About kissing her. And about her kissing him. Which was exactly what she was thinking about but trying desperately not to show it. As nice as it would be, all kissing would do was confuse her more than ever. Because, despite their undeniable chemistry, they’d lost what they’d once had and only a fool would try to recapture it.
“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” he asked unexpectedly, and released her.
Tess stared at him. “Dinner? You mean, like a date?”
He nodded. “I thought we could spend some time together.”
“We’re spending time together now,” she reminded him of the obvious.
“That’s different,” he said, and got to his feet. “This is about the baby. A date would be about...us.”
There is no us...
The words teetered on the edge of her tongue, but she didn’t say them. He was trying, and she had to give him credit for his restraint and his efforts. Still, knowing he had an agenda and wanted things his own way made her resistance linger. “I’ll think about it,” she said instead, and yawned a little. “I should probably go, it’s getting late. I need to go home and take a shower and wash away the grime of the day. Hanging out with a bunch of nine-year-olds has proven to be exhausting.”
It was dark outside, and she glanced at her watch and noticed it was past six o’clock. It had been a long day and she was tired. She was about to get to her feet when he held out a hand.
“Why don’t you stay a little longer and rest? I’m sure we haven’t covered all the things we need to buy for the baby’s room. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll make that chamomile tea you like. When you’re ready to go I’ll take you back to Annie’s and get Wes to follow in your car.”
It seemed like a terrible inconvenience, but she was feeling tired and her ankles were a little swollen, she noticed. “If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“No trouble,” he said quickly. “Be back in a minute.”
Once he left the room, Tess pulled her legs up onto the sofa and rested back a fraction. She looked around, noticing a lamp on in the corner where the Christmas tree always sat. She wondered if Mitch still decorated the house like he used to when they were married. It had been something they’d loved doing together. In fact, the whole family were part of the tradition. Christmas was a big deal for the Culhanes, and she figured this year would be no exception. Ellie and Joss in particular loved getting the house ready and they usually celebrated the event over several days. This year, she suspected, she would be a part of it, too, since her baby would be only a couple of weeks away from being born.
She sighed, stretching out her legs as she closed her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.
When Tess eventually opened her eyes, she was startled to discover she was laying on a bed. A very large bed. In an all-too-familiar room. Her old bedroom. She blinked a couple of times to adjust to the half light coming from the small lamp on the bedside table. The wide shutters that led out to the balcony were closed, and she noticed nothing was out of place in the entire room. And on one wall, by the sitting area, was her and Mitch’s wedding portrait. She’d wondered where he’d had it moved to and hadn’t considered the possibility of it being in their old bedroom. Which was the exact moment she realized he no longer slept in the room. Because nothing was different. Nothing had been touched. Even the duvet was the same as when she’d left it.
It was obvious she’d fallen asleep and he’d carried her upstairs. She had a vague memory of stirring in his arms as he’d moved her from the couch. She slowly swung her legs off the bed and sat up, taking a couple of breaths. She got to her feet, found her shoes and made a quick bathroom stop in the master bathroom. When she returned she noticed that there was a small pile of clothes on the end of the bed next to her tote. Her clothes, she realized, things she’d left behind four years ago. A pair of stretchy pull-on pants with a drawstring waist and a soft pink sweater. She glanced back at the huge bath in the master suite, mentally comparing it to the small shower cubicle at Annie’s, and within a minute was back in the bathroom and filling up the tub. She spent a decadent half hour in the bathtub, using some of her old bath crystals that were lined up on a shelf and were still in surprisingly good shape. Once she dried off, she rummaged through her tote and found a spare pair of cotton underwear, dressed in the clothes that were left out, minus her bra, shoved her other garments back into her bag and headed from the room. There was a light on in one of the rooms down the hall and she made her way there, stalling in the doorway. The room had once been used for guests, but now she sensed it was Mitch’s permanent bedroom.
“Everything okay?”
She turned and found him a few feet away, leaning against the wall, arms folded, his feet crossed at the ankles, dressed in jeans and a dark sweater that stretched over his shoulders like a second skin.
“I fell asleep,” she said, feeling the intense intimacy of the space between them.
“You did. I carried you upstairs.”
“And didn’t break your back,” she said with a small grin.
He chuckled. “I see you found the clothes.”
Tess’s skin warmed. “My old sweats. You kept them?”
He shrugged. “Habit.”
“Why did you move out of the big room?”
His green eyes glittered brilliantly. “You know why.”
Awareness and heat swirled between them like a chemical experiment out of control. It had always been that way, she thought. There was always a force bigger than them both pulling them together, making it impossible for one to truly ever forget the other.
“It will never go away, will it?” she said softly. “This thing between us.”
“No,” he replied, and pushed himself off the wall, movin
g closer. “Too much history. Too many feelings.”
Tess swallowed hard, dropping the tote to her feet. “That afternoon in Sioux Falls... It was inevitable the moment we saw each other across the hotel foyer.”
“Yes.”
She sucked in a breath, saw his green eyes darken, felt her body go warm all over. “Like it’s inevitable right now?”
He nodded and reached for her, curling a hand around her nape. “I think so.”
Tess moved closer, feeling heat from him burn through her like a bonfire. When she was against him, when her belly touched him and her hands rested on his chest, he tilted her head and looked into her face. There was passion and desire in his expression, so intense it almost knocked her at the knees. And something else. Memory. Feeling. And more. Things she didn’t have the courage to acknowledge.
But she knew what she wanted. What she needed. Even if it was just for a moment. Even if it would only complicate everything. Complicate them. Since that day in Sioux Falls, she’d missed Mitch’s touch, his tenderness, the way only he had ever made her feel. And, of course, she’d missed him before then. Since the day she’d walked out on their marriage. And every day in between.
She pressed closer, stood on her toes and kissed his mouth.
It took only seconds for Mitch to kiss her back, and then his lips were moving over hers and his tongue was in her mouth and they were locked together in a heated embrace. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she gripped harder, pressing closer, finding comfort and strength within his arms.
“Make love to me,” she whispered against his mouth. “I don’t want to feel anything but you.”
He stepped her backward until they were in his bedroom. He closed the door and tugged at her sweater, pushing off one shoulder, trailing kisses along her collarbone, finding the sensitive spot at her nape and lingering there, making her crazy with need. She’d heard stories about pregnancy amplifying libido, but hadn’t experienced it until that moment. Tess moved her hands and found her way under his sweater, tracing her fingers across his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath and moved, quickly pulling the sweater over his shoulders and tossing it aside. She absorbed the sight of him, every sinew and muscle, every inch of his taut skin. He kissed her again and again, going slow and then deep and anchoring her head passionately.
When her sweater disappeared, he groaned at the sight of her bare breasts, cupping them gently in his large hands, rolling each gently with his thumb. Tess gripped his shoulders and led him toward the bed. He sat down and positioned her to stand in front of him, her legs between his thighs, resting his hands at her hips. He kissed her breasts, caressing each in turn, taking one pert nipple into his mouth, and then the other, driving her wild as he inched down her pants and briefs in one smooth move.
“My God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, and palmed her belly gently.
Tess thrust her hands into his hair and urged him closer. “I don’t want to wait,” she whispered. “I want to feel you now.”
He dispensed with his jeans with lightning speed and drew her down onto the bed. “Are you sure this is okay?” he muttered against her lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me,” she assured him.
He nodded and kissed her, tracing his hand down her thigh, dipping between her legs and finding her ready for him. He caressed her intimately, drawing a response, creating an erotic rhythm that drove her wild. And he kissed her—hot, deep kisses that were so torturously intense she thought she might pass out. When the pleasure came, when it lifted her up and over into that place meant only for lovers, Tess cried his name, reveling as pulse after pulse of white-hot release surged through her veins.
When the vibrations abated, she reached for him, finding him hard and ready, and within moments they were joined together. He stayed above her, holding all his weight effortlessly on his strong arms, kissing her hungrily as they moved as one. When he shuddered above her, Tess held him, waiting for the release only he could give her, knowing she was still completely and undeniably in love with the only man who had ever had her heart.
* * *
Mitch waited until his arms were numb before he moved and rolled, hating how alone he felt the moment their bodies were apart. She was breathing hard, drawing in long gulps of air, and he took a few moments to draw enough air into his own lungs so he could speak.
“Are you okay?”
Her eyes were closed and she was smiling. “Perfectly fine.”
He let his gaze linger at her breasts and then her rounded belly, and he fought the urge to lay his hands over their son in a primitively protective gesture. But everything about his feelings for Tess bordered on primitive. The bed coverlet was tangled at their feet, and he saw their clothes spotted from the doorway and across the floor. He figured only ten minutes had passed from the time he’d met her in the hallway and then smiled to himself when he realized he really needed a do-over to ensure he took his time and used at least some finesse, instead of being all eagerness and impatience.
“What?” she asked, clearly sensing his mood.
“That was something of a land speed record,” he said ruefully. “I’ll do better next time.”
“I’m not complaining.”
Her frankness turned him inside out. And turned him on. He grasped her chin and kissed her gently. “I didn’t hurt you?”
She shook her head fractionally. “Of course not. But if you insist on doing better...be my guest.”
He laughed and rolled her on her side, facing her, their baby between them. “Feel like having something to eat first? There’s plenty of party leftovers in the refrigerator.”
Ten minutes later they were downstairs eating cold fried chicken followed by copious amounts of cake and tea. The mood between them was oddly relaxed, surprising considering what had recently happened upstairs. There was none of the post-sex awkwardness they’d experienced in Sioux Falls. In fact, it felt very much like it used to when they were first married. Making love had always been part pleasure, part connection, part affirmation of their feelings for one another. Never a chore, never just about the physical act itself. Often, more emotional than physical, although he couldn’t deny how damned good it felt to find release and solace in her touch. It had been nearly six months since they’d been together, and he hadn’t been with anyone else.
Later, once the dishes were cleared, they headed back upstairs and made love again. He took his time, kissing and touching every part of her, anointing her skin with caresses that were whisper soft and designed to drive her crazy. She moaned and writhed and came apart in his arms, and Mitch thought how he’d never tire of hearing her moan in pleasure as release claimed her. There was something insanely erotic about watching the woman he loved reach orgasm and say his name as she climaxed.
Afterward, once his breathing returned to normal and he could feel his legs and arms, Mitch held her closely, splaying his hand over her belly and feeling their child move inside her. The intimacy was acute and heart wrenching, and it was hard to hold on to the swell of emotion surging through his system. She cried a little, too, he noticed, but didn’t say anything. He simply held her and stroked her hair until she fell asleep in his arms.
When he awoke it was past six. Sundays were the one day a week he liked to sleep late—and six in the morning was late. Regardless of the day of the week, the ranch never slept and there was always plenty to do. But he knew Wes and the ranch hands would see to the feeding if he didn’t make an appearance by six thirty and decided he’d much rather lie in bed with Tess than brave the cold morning air.
She stirred around seven thirty and her lids fluttered open. Her cell had been pinging intermittently most of the night and had already gone off twice since dawn. Her sister, he figured, and suspected she would have some explaining to do once she returned to the McCall ranch.
If she returned...
&nb
sp; Things had changed quickly, no doubt about it. And with any luck, she’d see the good sense in forgetting any ideas about living anywhere else...or raising their son alone.
“Good morning,” he said as she opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times.
She took in her surroundings, grabbing the sheet to cover herself. “Hi.”
“Bit late for modesty,” he said, and grinned.
She shrugged. “Did I dream last night happened?”
“Nope. I’ve got a hickey on my neck to prove it.”
She looked mortified by his teasing. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m kidding, Tess,” he said, grabbing her hand and kissing her palm. “Stop stressing. And we’re grown-ups, we can do what we like. Want some breakfast?”
Color leached from her face and she sat up, dragging the sheet with her. “I should probably go before Mrs. B or Ellie realize I’m here and start asking questions.”
Mitch’s gut sank. “Mrs. B doesn’t work Sundays and Ellie is probably already out riding her horse. Are we about to have one of those postmortem thingies?” he asked. “Because if we are, I need coffee and food first.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not,” he said, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. “I just don’t want you getting all worked up because we made love. That’s what people in a relationship do, Tess. And whatever this is...it sure feels like a relationship right this minute.”
Her eyes widened for a moment and then she nodded. “Okay...no postmortems. For the moment. But I really should get going. Annie will be—”
“You might want to check your phone,” he suggested. “It’s been pinging since last night.”
She groaned. “See...people are already talking.”
“Does it matter?” he shot back and got up, pulling on his jeans. “People talk, Tess.”
“I hate gossip.”
“Then don’t give them reason to. Come home.”
Her mouth tightened. “I knew you’d be like this,” she said, and dragged the sheet with her as she got out of bed, draping it around herself toga style.